One of the great things about a prompt from our different three writers is how it can trigger totally different ideas.
Yellows, reds, greens and tinges of orange: fall colors are gorgeous!
It was a fairly gloomy day and the nightmare hadn’t ended.
She kept getting flashbacks. Was it only a week ago when out on a walk in the woods she had come across what looked to be like an abandoned hut. It had seemed to be anchored on or to a rock, but when she went back the next day to further explore, she realized that the “hut” was not one at all, but rather some sort of protective entrance to a cave.
Although she didn’t consider herself a wimp, she had no flashlight with her and so turned around.
But it drew her and the next day she returned, this time with a lantern.
Would she ever forget the hand reached out: fingers withered away, a body rotting since months.
She shuddered and started her car, forcefully bringing herself out of the flashback caused by a fallen leaf on her windshield.
DL's Free Write
Kai Lindstrom had not expected such a controversy over his statue. The town fathers and one town mother had approved his drawing unanimously.
He had not intended to spend four years, three months and a week in this New Hampshire town. He was touring the US because he wanted a change from Malmö.
The day he arrived, the archeologists from the University of New Hampshire discovered the ruins of a Viking village, which he took as an omen.
He married the town mother which added to the controversy that was more contentious than the Democrats against Republicans.
Some saw the statue as a fallen leaf from a gnarled tree.
Others saw a Viking woman in profile.
And others talked of a dragon.
Kai refused to explain it. He just liked that people looked at it.
Rick's Free Write
I was on a photo safari, looking to stock up on images I could use for the Flying Colours Facebook Group – colours, shapes, objects, patterns, symbolism – when I was startled by something fluttering down in front of my face.
Don’t know if it was photographer’s instinct or fright, but I clicked the camera.
Nothing hit me, and as I looked around I noticed a gnarled coppery leaf at my feet. There were no maples nearby so the leaf must’ve been windblown.
The withered leaf is a classic symbol of life and death. Of seasons changing. But I couldn’t help thinking of it as a symbol of the death of a culture, of a nation, of the country of our birth.
Will there be another Spring for democracy? Are the roots deep enough for rebirth?
Rick Adams is an aviation journalist and publisher of www.aviationvoices.com, a weekly newsletter reporting the top stories about the airline industry. He is the author of The Robot in the Simulator. AI in Aviation Training.
Visit D-L.'s website https://dlnelsonwriter.com, She is the author of 15 fiction and three non fiction books. Her 300 Unsung Women, bios of women who battled gender limitations, can be purchased at https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/300-unsung-women-d-l-nelson/1147305797?ean=9798990385504
Visit Julia's blog. She has written and taken photos and loves syncing up with friends. Her blog can be found: https://viewsfromeverywhere.blogspot.com/
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